Not Alone
by RaspieAspie
Summary: A oneshot I did modifying the ep. 4 scene in which Malcolm watches the tape of his mother's interview, and what I imagine it would have looked like if Gil had stayed with him, because I love Malcolm and hated that he had to go through that alone!. Spoilers if you haven't seen the episode yet!


Malcolm felt his heart speed up as Gil pushed the old video tape towards him.

"You sure you want to see this?" Gil asked.

Malcolm swallowed and nodded. " I um, don't suppose you brought anything to watch it on? I don't exactly have twenty-year old technology just sitting around my house."

Gil nodded, "In my car, I'll go get it. In the meantime, put a brew on."

"I can't drink caffeine," Malcolm said, clenching his injured right hand into a fist as it started to tremble. "It makes my anxiety worse."

"It's not for you," Gil said as he made his way down the stairs, "you didn't think I was going to let you watch that tape alone did you?"

Malcolm smiled and headed for the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, they had worked out how to hook up the antiquated VCR player to Malcolm's massive TV and slid the tape into the machine. There was a whirring click, then Jessica's image flicked onto the screen.

Gil sat down next to Malcolm on the coffee table, holding his steaming mug in one hand. "You okay?" he asked. Malcolm's fist was shaking again.

"Yeah," Malcolm said quietly. He wasn't quite able to bring his gaze to meet the screen.

"Where is my lawyer?" Jessica was demanding, "he should be here by now!"

"I'll go check," the male voice offscreen said, "stay here."

A few seconds passed, then a gun in a holster appeared at the left edge of the screen. Malcolm looked up with surprise as he heard a voice he recognized.

"You've been here a while. Can I get you anything? Water? Some tea?"

Malcolm glanced at Gil, who had suddenly become very interested in his coffee. He turned back to the screen and stood up, needing to be close to his mother as she divulged the truth that had been waiting for him for so long.

Behind him, Gil watched as Malcolm's arms wrapped themselves around his thin frame and he swayed from foot to foot, like he was trying to comfort himself. Gil stood up and moved to stand beside him. All he could see now was the scared eleven-year-old he'd met those many years ago.

On the screen, Jessica was distraught. "What's in this file is all too horrible to..." she hesitated, then whispered, "and I knew."

Malcolm swallowed and he felt his throat close up as his eyes started to sting.

"Mrs. Whitly, you asked for a lawyer and that's your right," the young Gil warned her.

Jessica cut him off and her voice got louder. "I am telling you that I knew!" she repeated. Her face betrayed how heavy each word was.

Malcolm's vision blurred as his heart clenched with more agony than he had expected. He closed his eyes as tears spilled down his cheeks.

Gil glanced at his young friend and saw the pain written all over his face. He clapped an arm around Malcolm's shoulders and pulled him into a sideways hug, but kept silent. Malcolm needed to hear what came next.

"I thought it was another woman!" Jessica said, her voice breaking.

Malcolm's head snapped up as he looked at his mother. Gil felt the relief that washed through him as his shoulders relaxed. Malcolm bit his lip to keep it from trembling and took another step forward, placing his hand on his mother's face.

"I should have known. I let him get away with this!" Jessica cried, "I enabled him! God! Think of how many people I could've saved if I'd just..." She trailed off as her tears turned to sobs.

"Mrs. Whitley, do you know how many lives you're responsible for?" the young Gil asked. He paused. "Two." Jessica looked at him. "And they're waiting at home for you right now."

"Do you think they're okay?" Jessica asked desperately.

"They will be," Gil replied, "with your help."

The video paused and Malcolm dropped his head, trying to hide his eyes from Gil as he turned around, sniffling. He sat back down on the coffee table and hung his head. "Could you please go?" he choked quietly. He needed time to just be with his feelings, and he couldn't do that with Gil watching him.

"No," Gil said, just as quietly. He sat down beside Malcolm and wrapped both arms around him, feeling his thin, bony frame freeze up. "Come here kid," he murmured, "just relax."

Malcolm fought valiantly for another few seconds, but the wave of grief and relief and guilt and anger and fear crushed him like a tidal wave, and he felt himself sink into Gil's firm embrace. The world was nothing but a smear as the tears fell hot and fast. Malcolm felt himself starting to shake as his breathing came out in ragged gasps. He turned and buried his head in Gil's shoulder.

Gil said nothing as he held Malcolm tight and rocked him slowly. Again he saw not a man, but a sad, scared little boy whose world had been ripped out from under him. He would protect that boy at all costs.

It took a while, but eventually Malcolm stopped crying long enough to catch his breath. He let out a heavy, shaky sigh and pulled away from Gil, drawing both hands over his wet face. "I'm sorry," he murmured softly, looking at the shoulder of Gil's brown suede jacket. A dark patch soaked through where Malcolm's tears and snot had collected.

Gil smiled, "Don't be, that's what washing is for." He reached out and palmed the back of Malcolm's neck and looked at him, disheveled, wet, exhausted appearance and all. "You're going to be okay kid," he murmured, and Malcolm gave him a weak smile. "We'll get through this together, like we always have, and you're going to be okay."


End file.
